I Want To Make You Feel Beautiful
by YouThinkYouNoeMe
Summary: Randy decides to help a struggling Trish... Characters: Randy OrtonTrish Stratus, Dave Batista


**Title: I Want To Make You Feel Beautiful**

**Rating: PG for very mild language**

**Characters/Pairing: Randy/Trish, Batista**

**Disclaimer: All characters are property of WWE and themselves. The title and plot of this fic were inspired by the song 'She Will Be Loved,' by Maroon 5.**

**Summary: Randy cheers up a struggling Trish...**

**A/N: I figured after 'With Open Arms' being ended, people would wanna see some more Randy/Trish, LOL. I couldn't resist using that pairing for this fic, so I hope you all enjoy it!**

She was hurting again. All it took was one look into those telling brown eyes, and he could read her every emotion. And when he saw her a few moments earlier, he knew immediately what was wrong. That pained look in her eyes, which he saw all too often as of late, couldn't lie.

No, it wasn't physical pain she felt, despite the fact that she had a grueling match just prior. It was a mental type of anguish - a sadness, basically - that took over when she got down on herself.

"Yo buddy, you there?"

Randy Orton was quickly drawn from the daze he'd allowed himself to slip into, glancing up at the huge man beside him.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here," he replied. "I was just thinking..."

When he trailed off, Dave Batista sighed from just beside him. Randy was hardly the contemplative type... that is, except for in cases involving a particular person.

"It's Trish again, isn't it?" he asked, taking a seat next to his partner.

Despite his appearance and the way he acted in the ring, Batista was no dummy, and he was certainly not clueless of his surroundings. He and Randy were best of friends, and speaking as a friend, Randy was head over heels in love with Trish Stratus.

Randy felt his cheeks warm, and he hoped he wasn't blushing. A sigh left his lips as he admitted to Dave's accusation with a nod. He couldn't help himself. She had invaded his thoughts a lot lately. It wasn't his fault, really... she just had to be the most perfect thing he'd ever seen.

"Randy, this is nuts... you guys have been friends for how long now? Talk to her," Batista said with a frown.

Randy shrugged, "Its not even about that, Dave. I just hate seeing her upset. She hasn't smiled once since she broke up with Christian. I want to talk to her, I really do... but how can I say anything when she's so down on herself she refuses to hear anything?"

Dave nodded perceptively. Trish had been exceptionally upset over her breakup, which he found odd, considering Christian treated her like crap. But for whatever reason, she was more miserable after she broke it off with him, and it was really getting to Randy. He had become a sort of a shoulder for Trish, and it tore him apart to see her this way.

"Well, I think you should talk to her regardless. If you can find her, that is... she disappeared again."

Randy hesitated for a beat, but then stood, nodding his head as well.

"Oh, I know exactly where she'll be."

A heavy-lidded Randy turned his rental car into a near deserted parking lot. After searching for well over an hour, the exhausted young man was tempted to give up. But just as he was about to turn back, he found it: the only all-night diner within a twenty mile radius. Trish had to be there. She always chose one of those small, obscure places... said she got her best thinking done there.

Holding back a yawn, Randy parked the car and got out, heading for the entrance. He found it quite amusing that there was not a doubt in his mind that Trish would be there.

He stepped inside the place, the obligatory bells jingling from just above his head as he pushed the door open. Yup, this was definitely Trish's type of place. He found her in a matter of seconds, as his instincts told him to check the far left corner of the diner. She always sat to the back and to the left... just one of her many quirks.

Before anyone could approach him for assistance, Randy showed himself to the back, heading in her direction. When he reached her table, he sat down across from her, without warning. For a moment, she said nothing, opting to instead watch the condensation form on the outside of her slowly melting milkshake.

"How did you know I'd be here?" she asked, without even looking up to acknowledge him.

"Call it a hunch," Randy answered simply.

Trish nodded and fell silent again, this time grasping the straw in her shake and swirling it around in her glass.

"Alright, Trish, spill it," he commanded after a moment, unable to bear the silence any longer.

With a sigh, Trish lifted her glass, taking a small sip. She hated when he said that. Her sorrows always seemed so insignificant, she just preferred to mope alone. Maybe it was selfish, but she didn't want a lecture on how good she had it while she was depressed.

"It's nothing, Randy," she assured with the best smile she could manage. "Just wanted some 'me' time."

Randy shook his head. She was a terrible liar.

"It's always something," he said plainly, resting his hands on the table.

At this point, Trish looked up at him for the first time. He was giving her that look that he had pretty near mastered over the past weeks. He didn't need words, his eyes alone told her that she should know him better than that. It was a stern look, but damnit if he didn't look cute giving it. She supposed she should just tell him the truth, though she already knew what his reaction would be.

"Christian called..." she admitted, wincing very slightly at the sound of her own voice mentioning his name. "...he wants me to come to his place this weekend..."

"Trish, no," Randy cut her off abruptly. His own feelings for her aside, he was sick of that bastard making decisions for her. "You don't have to go."

"He just wants me to pick up my things, Randy," she explained, "all the stuff I'd left there... it's really going to be over."

Her gaze dropped, and Randy frowned as that saddened expression - that same one he'd seen earlier - found its way to her face again. She was visibly upset, but Randy couldn't put his finger on exactly what had made her that way. Talking to Christian always made her upset, but there had to be something else.

As if she'd read his mind, Trish spoke again, answering his question before he could even ask.

"I just don't understand," she sighed, glancing out the window before her eyes rested on her shake again. "Why wasn't I good enough for him?"

Randy frowned. Trish had cared deeply for Christian, he couldn't deny that. But it wasn't feelings for him that upset her. It was feelings of inadequacy that their break up made her feel. She had always let little things he said get to her.

"Trish, please. You're a beautiful woman, inside and out. You weren't good enough for Christian because you were too good for him, and he knew that."

Trish couldn't hold back a smile at the sound of Randy's comment. He had ways of making her smile no matter how low she was feeling.

"Randy..."

"Trish, I'm serious. Christian was so insecure about himself that when he realized he couldn't make himself look better than you, he had to make himself feel better than you. And he's not... he never was. You deserved better," he insisted, keeping his gaze locked on her should she decide to look up.

"Well where the hell am I supposed to find somebody that I'm good enough, but not too good for?" she questioned, raking her manicured nails through her blonde tresses.

"Right here."

Trish's head darted up at Randy's blunt statement. Was he serious?

For the second time that day, Randy felt his cheeks warm, which was a rare occurance for him. He hadn't planned on being so bold, but the comment had just slipped from his lips. He winced slightly, her confused expression stinging at his heart.

"Do you mean that?" she asked, reaching across the table for his hand.

Randy was hesitant, but he took her hand in his, their fingers entwining on the table top. Trish eyed him wonderingly. Could it be that Randy Orton, the epitome of a ladies man, had feelings for her? She had never considered the option before, but she found herself sincerely hoping it was the truth.

"Well..." he began, his heart beginning to thump in his chest. "Yeah, I do."

His only hope at this point was that she didn't laugh in his face. Randy knew damn well what his reputation in the WWE was, and having serious feelings for someone did not fall under his characteristics. He dared to glance up at her, and he was unable to make out her expression, but she didn't look thrilled.

"Randy, I..."

"You don't have to say anything, Trish," he insisted, letting go of her hand. "I'll understand completely if you don't feel the same. I hope we can still be friends, because I really do enjoy spending time with you."

"No, no!" she said, shaking her head swiftly. "I'm just debating whether or not I should kiss you."

He did a double take, his eyebrows raising drastically at her comment. What? He looked over at her, noticing that a coy smile had taken over her lips. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but that certainly wasn't it.

"Are you serious?" he asked, still a little uneasy.

"Well, yeah..." she admitted slowly. "It's just that after Christian and I broke up, I didn't think anyone would feel like that about me ever again. The fact that it's you just makes it all that much better."

Randy flashed her a gorgeous smile, leaning forward so that his face was mere inches from hers. Before Trish could even react to the fact that he was in such close proximity to her, he moved even closer, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss he planted on her was short and sweet, but when Randy pulled away she still felt a little breathless. When he looked her over, he was pleased to see that, despite looking a bit surprised, Trish was grinning from ear to ear.

"There," he said with a wink, "now you don't have to have that debate."

**::The End::**


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